


No Money for Food

by white_cross_b



Category: GetBackers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-26
Updated: 2010-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-10 19:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/white_cross_b/pseuds/white_cross_b





	No Money for Food

It was a lazy afternoon. The windows on Lady Bug were rolled down, but even the light breeze that blew in the open windows wasn’t much of a relief in the early summer heat. It rose from the baking pavement like steam, making the inside of the car almost hotter than it was outside. Ban dangled his arm out the window, a cigarette in his hand, smoke curling from the tip, glasses firmly over his eyes to block out the bright light of the sun.

Things had to change, and soon.

In the passenger seat Ginji rattled on, listing all the names of foods he would eat if they’d had any money. He’d started with popular Western foods, such as hotdogs, pizza, french fries, and hamburgers, then moved on to more local dishes like pickled octopus, ramen, and domburi. He would pause from time to time to ask Ban another one of his usual inane questions and then he would continue his list while his stomach growled loudly enough for Ban to hear.

It was when Ginji started alphabetically naming all the types of maki rolls that he would eat that it happened. He shifted idly, his long legs stretching cramped muscles, shorts riding up higher on his thighs, when Ban happened to glance over and found himself staring.

“Kampyo maki, kappa roll, negimauro roll, natto roll, oshinko roll…”

Ban looked away, taking a deep drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke out the window, away from Ginji. He scratched his head for a moment, and then he shrugged the whole thing off. They had spent a lot of time together since they had started their recovery service; that’s all it was. And Ban was hungry. But being hungry didn’t usually involve wanting to take a bite out of his partner’s thigh.

It was the heat, Ban finally decided.

 “Sakekawa roll, shiitake roll, spicy tuna roll… Hey, Ban-chan, do you think whales ever get cold?”

Two seconds later, Ban had Ginji pushed against the passenger side door of the car.

Kissing Ginji was far different than kissing any of the girls that Ban had dated. There was a tension between them -- there always had been -- and it didn’t take more than a simple pressing of their lips together and his hand shoved roughly up the leg of Ginji’s shorts for Ban to figure out that this was what he had been wanting to do to Ginji all along. And when Ban made a commitment, he always saw it through to the end. They didn’t have a 100% success rate for nothing.

Conveniently enough, Ginji had been about to say the name of the next maki roll before he was shoved against the inside of the car, making it easy for for Ban to slide his tongue inside Ginji’s warm, wet mouth. Ginji put up no resistance. A few moments was all it took before he responded, tangling his tongue around Ban’s and making a low, soft noise in his throat. It was so hot, hearing a noise like that come out of Ginji, that Ban pressed forward, pushing the green vest aside and shoving his other hand up under Ginji’s shirt to run his hands over the soft skin and hard muscle. It was then that he felt it, the spark of electricity as Ginji pushed his gloved hands underneath Ban’s white shirt, bare fingertips digging into the muscle of his back. It crackled and sparked around them, sending a tingling sensation throughout Ban’s body. It was good. It was really good, and Ban just wanted to eat Ginji alive.

A gearshift to the groin stopped him from doing just that, and Ban pulled back, licking the taste of Ginji from his lips as the sparks of electricity subsided, leaving behind a sharp metallic smell. Ginji was flushed, his eyes wide as saucers. “Ban-chan…” he said in wonder.

Ban shifted back in his own seat, lighting a new cigarette and glancing up at himself in the rear-view mirror. Ban’s hair had already had a tousled look, but now it stuck up in all directions, as if he’d thrust his finger in a light socket like he’d been warned against when he was a kid.

 In a sense, he kind of just had. Ban leaned back in his seat and grinned.  
 


End file.
